


Always on the Run

by Inell



Series: Teeny Fic Challenge [18]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dead Gerard Argent, Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Divorced Joseph Hale, First Kiss, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mentioned Kate Argent, Older Man/Younger Man, Papa Hale's Name is Joseph, Stiles has a gun, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Stiles comes from a long line of hunters, and he knows they must be rolling over in their grave because he’s got himself mixed up with an alpha’s right hand.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cywscross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/gifts).



> Anonymous said: Papa Hale/Stiles! & to cywscross because I think they’ll enjoy this one!
> 
> Nonnie, this song came up on shuffle, so here’s a different take on Joseph/Stiles for you! I really love how this one turned out, so I hope you enjoy it! Teeny Fic #18
> 
> Destiny is the rising sun  
> Oh, I was born 6-gun in my hand  
> Behind the gun I'll make my final stand
> 
> Bad Company by Bad Company

Their paths cross for the first time in Tulsa, outside a honky tonk near the interstate.

The man’s been following him all day. Black car, tinted windows, couldn’t be more suspicious if he had a neon sign. Stiles might only be twenty, but he’s been on his own for five of those years, and he’s still alive. That says more than any words he could put together can. Hunting is a dangerous way of life, but Stiles doesn’t know anything else. His mom uses to jokingly say he was born with a gun in his hand because he took to it so easily.

Tulsa’s got a vampire problem, one that Stiles has just taken care of with a little bit of kerosene, a handful of matches, and a machete. Dust to dust. Ashes to ashes. Unlike some of his counterparts, Stiles only hunts those who need to be hunted. The vampires left a trail of victims across the tornado belt, and he doesn’t feel any sympathy at their untimely demise. Next up is a witch in Baton Rouge, using local religion to drum up business and sacrifices to boost her power. Stiles knows magic, has a bit of spark of his own, and he doesn’t take kindly to anyone misusing their power and targeting the vulnerable.

Before he can head south, he stops at the honky tonk so he can either have some kind of confrontation with his new shadow or at least try to get a beer before hitting the road. His fake ID is excellent, the Mahealani family the best in the business for forgery and documents. All dozen of Stiles’ identities has a Mahealani to thank for making it so solid that he’s never been caught. It works on the bartender like a charm, as does his easy smile and flirty personality that ensures people remember him as a flirt but can’t really remember anything else about him.

After Trixie gets him a beer and slides him her number, too, he leaves with a wink and a five dollar tip, walking away from the bar and heading to the darkest corner of the room, the one that gives him the best view of the bar. He’s already cataloged every exit, prepared three points of escape, and now it’s time to wait and see if he has a guest joining him or if he’s drinking alone tonight.

The band on stage isn’t half bad. Stiles isn’t into country music, too much depressing shit about lost loves and drinking for his taste, but they’re playing a more southern country rock mixture that has him tapping his foot on the floor as he keeps half his attention on the door. When it opens and a really tall guy steps inside, Stiles takes a moment to appreciate the view unbiasedly. At least half a foot taller than Stiles, probably, with broad shoulders and huge biceps and muscular thighs.

He looks old, like older than Stiles’ dad would have been if they hadn’t been double-crossed by that crazy Argent bitch and he’d been killed five years ago. But he wears it well. Dark hair falling to his shoulders, a thick beard shot through with grey, and a presence that has quite a few eyes in this place already staring at him. He moves with a grace that Stiles recognizes, prowling like an animal poised to attack, and he scans the place until his gaze collides with Stiles’.

It’s crazy because, for a moment, it feels like all the air in the place completely disappears, and Stiles is left breathless.

Werewolf. Unknown. Not someone Stiles has come in contact with previously. But he knows who Stiles is, is tracking him down like _he’s_ the hunter instead of the prey, and Stiles is intrigued despite himself. He watches with half-lidded eyes as the guy walks to the bar, flashing a smile that charms the panties off Trixie without even saying a word. Stiles licks the top of his bottle when the guy looks at him, arching a brow in challenge before he tilts his head back and takes a drink, deliberately baring his neck to let the guy he’s not scared.

When he finishes his drink, the guy’s at his table, a lazy smirk on his full lips. If he were just a stranger in a bar, Stiles has a feeling that he’d be following him to the closest rest room and climbing him like a tree. Unfortunately for Stiles’ dick, which is suddenly interested in the proceedings, the guy’s a werewolf who’s stalking him. Those two things are strike one and strike two. It’s probably not difficult to find a third strike, but Stiles isn’t entirely sure he wants to yet.

“You did good work with the vampires, Stilinski,” the guy says, his voice deep and sexy. No, not sexy. What the hell, Stiles? Get it together. Just deep. No ands about it.

“I might have been showing off, just a little,” Stiles allows, rubbing the top of his beer bottle against his bottom lip. “After all, I’ve had an audience all day. Was starting to wonder if you’d ever say hi or you were just waiting to watch me jerk off or something.”

“That’s more up my brother-in-law’s alley,” the guy tells him, lips quirking in amusement. His eyes are a light color, hazel but almost gray in the lights from the neon signs. “Former, that is. While I wouldn’t mind a show, I’d rather participate than just watch.”

Oh, this guy is good. He’s taking Stiles’ usual MO of flirting and innuendo and twisting it on him. He’d be impressed if he weren’t on the receiving end of it. “Don’t you think you’re a little too old for that, old man?”

“Haven’t you ever heard that men only get better with age, brat?” He leans in and smiles, a smile that does not make Stiles’ knees weak because he’s a fucking adult who is immune to shit like this. Only maybe not so much.

“You’ve got me at a disservice,” Stiles says, licking his lips and feeling a sense of satisfaction with the guy stares at his mouth. “You know who I am, but I don’t know you.”

“My manners must have fled when confronted with such beauty and wit,” the guy says, moving his hand onto the table, palm up. “Joseph Hale, ex-husband of Talia Hale, Alpha of the Pacific Northwest territory.”

“Hale, huh?” Stiles looks at the hand on the table, noting it’s the right hand. He’s crossed paths with Talia Hale’s left hand before, her brother, Peter, who looked at him like he was a chocolate cake and Peter couldn’t wait to eat every bite. Stiles had only been fifteen then, so, yeah, awkward. Hot, but awkward. “Why are you in Oklahoma, Joey? Besides the beauty and wit, of course.” He rolls his eyes because, really, that had been laying it on thick.

Joseph’s eyebrow goes up, but he doesn’t call Stiles out for the nickname. Instead, he looks amused. “I’m looking for you, actually, Mieczyslaw,” he says, pronouncing Stiles’ name perfectly. “I’m here to collect on a debt owed to my alpha by your mother, Claudia.”

“My mother owed no debts,” Stiles tells him, taking another drag of his beer, noting the way Joseph’s gaze drops to his throat, a slightly hungry look in his eyes before he blinks and it’s gone. When he puts the bottle down, he narrows his eyes. “What kind of debt?”

“Talia saved your mother from a rogue omega twenty years ago,” Joseph says. “She saved two lives that night, and Claudia swore a blood debt to the Hale pack. We’ve had no need to rely on _hunters_ to aid our pack…until now.”

“Why now?” Stiles has no one to ask about this supposed debt. His mother was killed twelve years ago, and his dad rarely spoke of her. It’s possible this is true, but he’s still suspicious why an alpha would send their right hand to bumfuck Oklahoma to track him down to collect on a two decade’s old debt with the descendent of the person who made it in the first place.

“We have an Argent problem,” Joseph says simply, watching Stiles carefully. Everyone in hunting circles knows what happened to Stiles’ father, knows that Kate Argent is a crazy ass psycho bitch, knows that her father was just as bad until Stiles put a bullet between his eyes as his own dad lay bleeding on the ground. He’d almost got Kate, too, but he’d been unable to reload fast enough. She’d left instead of facing him, though he’s still not sure why she didn’t kill him, too.

“Chris and Victoria are good people. So’s their daughter. They’ve stayed out of this life, after Kate and Gerard.” Stiles stares intently at Joseph, needing to hear him say it. To say the name that he’s been chasing for five years but has been unable to find.

“Kate targeted my son,” Joseph tells him, voice gruff as he leans closer. “Derek’s sisters noticed, and we were able to prevent her from getting her claws in him, but the damage had already been done. She got into his head, and he’s become anxious and fearful, not trusting himself because he let down his guard with her. We can’t raise a hand against a hunter unless blood is spilled, so the council can’t help us. Talia believes that _you_ are the answer to our prayers.”

“Is Kate still around?” Stiles huffs a laugh, thumbnail scraping at the damp label on his beer bottle. “Of course she is. What am I saying? She wreaks havoc then watches the fallout. If she was targeting your son for a specific reason that got interrupted, she’s dangerous and unpredictable. When did this happen?”

“A couple of weeks ago.” Joseph takes a pull of his own beer, licking his lips when he lowers the bottle. “Talia made the decision to call in the debt, Peter tracked you down, and I was sent to collect you. Peter offered to come but we felt you’d be more willing if it were me.”

“Why? Because I’ve got a thing for hot older guys built like mountains?” Stiles narrows his eyes, looking Joseph over slowly. “Are you my prize for helping? A reward for being a good little hunter who shows up to remove your pesky Kate problem? Because, if so, I have to say that I admire Talia’s commitment to her pack.”

“Because Peter apparently neared bad touch territory when he met you and your father when you were a teenager,” Joseph says dryly. “My ex-wife isn’t offering you sex to help the pack. She’s calling in a debt, remember? There isn’t a promised reward for a job well done.”

“Too bad. Sex would have made it a slam dunk decision on my part.” Stiles shrugs. “Hunting gets lonely, and there’s only so many times a sloppy blowjob or quick hand job can get a man through.” He smiles slyly when Joseph chokes on his drink. “As it is, now I have to consider whether I actually believe this claim about a blood debt or not.”

“I never said sex was off the table,” Joseph points out, pressing his leg against Stiles’ beneath the table. “I just stated that it was not my alpha’s intention, nor would she ever pressure any pack member into such an arrangement.”

“You do know that I’m totally going to go with you so that I can kill Kate and make sure she regrets _ever_ touching my father, don’t you?” Stiles asks curiously. “You don’t have to offer sex to get me to agree.”

“I had a feeling that you’d be unable to resist taking revenge based on what I know of you,” Joseph admits. “I did my research after Talia announced the blood debt, and you’re a fascinating man, Mieczyslaw. I’d be lying if I denied wanting you, especially after watching you take out the clan of vampires earlier.”

“Stiles. It’s Stiles. No one calls me Mieczyslaw since my grandparents died,” he says, leaning in closer to Joseph. “Watching me behead a bunch of flaming vampires turned you on, did it?”

“Watching you fight turned me on,” Joseph corrects him, eyes somehow seeming to darken in the flashing neon. He ghosts his lips over Stiles’ mouth and along the curve of his jaw before he hovers over his ear. “I wanted to bend you over the hood of my car and make you scream my name, make you beg for it.”

“The only begging around here is going to be you, old man. Not me.” Stiles turns his head and presses his lips against Joseph’s, kissing him firmly before licking at his mouth, tasting beer and peppermint when Joseph opens up for him. Stiles moves his fingers into Joseph’s hair, tugging hard enough to make him whine into the kiss, smiling as he nips at his lip before pulling away. He’s got his gun out now, pressed against Joseph’s stomach. A gut shot wouldn’t kill a werewolf, but it’d sure as hell slow him down.

“What?” Joseph blinks at him, lips wet and parted and entirely too kissable.

“I’ve got an assignment down in Baton Rouge. I’ll be leaving for there now,” he says, smirking when Joseph narrows his eyes. “You’re good, but you’re not good enough to make me break a commitment. After I’ve taken care of the witchy problem my buddy’s been having, then I’ll see about making my way to your territory. Should be up that way within a week, if all goes well.”

“Another week? Who knows what Argent might do in that time,” Joseph says, a growl underlying his words. “If my pack is harmed while you’re off fulfilling some obligation—“

“What? You’re kill me?” Stiles laughs then, digging the barrel of his gun in just a little more firmly. “Scarier things have tried, Joseph, and I’m still alive. I’d suggest you sit here and finish your drink while I leave. Don’t worry that pretty little head about Kate, either. She’s a game player, and she won’t be ready to make another move for at least a month.”

“You’re not leaving my sight, Stiles.” Joseph gives him a stubborn look. “Talia would have my balls if I come back without you, so you’re stuck with me now. I’d suggest getting that Baton Rouge matter cleared up real fast.”

“Oh goodie. My very own wolfie shadow.” Stiles rolls his eyes before he stands up, his gun back in his holster before anyone can even notice anything amiss. He reaches out for his spark, sending just a small zap of magic towards Joseph, enough to secure him to the chair for half an hour. “Guess that means you’ll have to catch me, old man.”

“You can count on it, brat.” Joseph slowly smiles, the breathless making one that has Stiles narrowing his eyes. “And _when_ I catch you, you’ll pay for this.”

“I’m not scared of the big bad wolf,” Stiles says, feeling a rush of excitement as Joseph gives him a look that promises all kinds of sexy things that have his dick interested once again. He smirks and winks as he starts backing away from the table. “See you around, Joseph. Catch me if you can.”


End file.
